Domesticated
by hikachu
Summary: The first thing Guts noticed as he slowly woke up, was an unexpected weight on his lap trying to tuck its ice-cold hands under his arms. AU. Griffith/Guts. Shameless, pointless fluff.


**Domesticated**

The first thing Guts noticed as he slowly woke up, was an unexpected weight on his lap trying to tuck its ice-cold hands under his arms.

"It's still raining outside," a voice moaned against his neck.

"… Griffith."

"Good thing Casca offered to walk me home, or I would be drenched now. And, well, so would you at this point."

Guts scowled. "Last time that happened and you tried to rub yourself all over me—"

"I ended up bleeding from my nose," Griffith finished with a smile and then added, brightly, "and you with a split lip!"

Something told Guts he hadn't been forgiven for it yet.

"At any rate, it's been… a day and a half since we last saw each other. Our schedules don't match at all lately, do they."

Guts leaned back against the couch and winced. The floor was hard and cold and he couldn't feel his ass anymore, and if Griffith didn't get up soon his legs would meet the same fate in matter of seconds.

"Tomorrow's the last night shift for a while. After that I'll be here in the evening at least," he muttered. "Won't make much of a difference if you're gonna spend the night at the library again, though."

Griffith cupped his cheeks between his hands: they were still cold and the contact made Guts wince, but rather than moving away – like he would have done at some point in the past – or shoving the other off – like he sometimes still did, when he was feeling particularly nervous or playful – Guts wrapped them into his own, rubbing the back of Griffith's hands with his thumbs.

It still felt a bit strange, sometimes, this sort of newfound intimacy with the guy he had only considered his best friend (or the closest thing to a best friend he'd ever had) until little more than a month ago. Strange, but not unwelcome.

It was the warmth he had been looking for – perhaps unconsciously – his whole life. A person who would look out for him and look back at him to make sure he was still there. A person who constantly acknowledged his existence.

Griffith's eyes turned into half-moons like they always did when he was smiling or scheming or feeling pleased or all of them at once. It reminded Guts of a sly cat.

"Well then, I shall try to study more between classes in the morning and during breaks at work in the afternoon," he said, pushing his forehead against Guts'.

Many people found Griffith intimidating and Guts, though aware that they had, objectively, all the right reasons to do so, had always scoffed at them until, that is, the nature of their relationship had begun to change and the boundaries to shift: Griffith was always touching him or invading his personal space whenever he got a chance; he initiated kisses and bit him and clung to him when Guts least expected it, and he did all this so naturally that it was almost nonchalant, that it almost felt like they had been this close their whole lives.

It baffled Guts to think that Griffith, of all people, would want him so much, and there were times when he still wasn't entirely sure of how to react. It made him feel like a dumb, inexperienced kid.

"Don't overwork yourself, alright? If you die Casca's gonna kill me."

"Oh," Griffith practically cooed. "That makes me happy. I think I would be very lonely in the afterlife, otherwise. Just like you in the past few days."

"I-I haven't been lonely!" Guts spluttered.

It was like those times when someone pointed out he was blushing, Guts felt compelled to yell that no, he absolutely wasn't, and, without fail, his face would magically turn redder.

Griffith threw his head back and laughed.

"Yes, yes, I believe you," he managed to speak through the last, dying bouts of laughter, and from his tone, it was obvious that he really meant: I don't and never will.

Still grinning, Griffith kissed his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his chin and by the time he reached his lower lip, the grin had melted away into something rawer but also more vulnerable than Griffith's usual expression.

One of his hands was holding tightly onto Guts', their fingers interlaced. The other, grasped his jaw before falling to his chest and then lower.

Guts whimpered.

"Didn't miss me. Huh?" Griffith articulated between kisses and touches of varying intensity.

Alright, Guts decided, it was about time he taught the guy a lesson, and prepared to pounce—Except Griffith rose to his feet before he could even try to tackle him to the floor.

"I'm going to take a bath," he declared cheerfully. "It's freezing in here."

No, it wasn't. It really, really wasn't, not until you decided to get up all of sudden after giving me a boner, Guts thought bitterly.

His expression had to be pretty stupid back then, because Griffith burst into laughter after only a glance to his face.

"Actually," he began slowly, head tilted to the side and cat-like expression back in place. "There should be enough room for two, in the tub."

There was or, theoretically, there would have been enough space, if Guts weren't so huge.

There was no way Griffith could have forgotten that little detail after what had happened the first – and so far only – time they'd tried to bathe together (or: make out in the tub, which was the same thing).

Guts instinctively touched his neck at the memory. It was a miracle it was still in one piece.

There was no way he'd listen again to what could possibly have been Griffith's only stupid idea in all the years they'd known each other: it was so stupid that it made up for all the bad ideas he had never had, after all.

"Aren't you coming? Guts?"

No, he wasn't. Just because he wasn't as smart as Griffith it didn't mean he was that dumb.

"Well?"

Why did Griffith have to have such long eyelashes? He wasn't a woman and they made his eyes look big and innocent when he blinked even though Guts knew better.

"I will wash your back for you."

There was a rather long pause.

"Damn you and your stupid Chinese cartoons," Guts spat out as he followed Griffith to the bathroom.


End file.
